Anders in the Tower
by FantasyFiend09
Summary: Three one-shots exploring Anders' time in the tower of the Circle of Magi. Rated M for sexual m/m content in Ch. 3.
1. Chapter 1  Arrival

The sun was starting to set behind the imposing stone structure that jutted into the sky. The sky was turning to pinks and oranges, adding to the magnificence of the scene. The boy might have considered it beautiful if it did not represent the end of everything he had come to know and care about in his twelve years of life.

He squeezed the pillow in his arms and buried his face against it. There was still a faint smell of his bed, his home. The templars had tried to pry it from his arms after tearing him from his bed, but he had held so tightly that they gave up. He had hid his face in that pillow, trying to will himself back to sleep so that he could wake and discover it was all a bad dream. He only lifted his face once, when the wagon started to move, so that he could take in one final look of his mother's face.

Even now, days later, he could perfectly see the tears rolling down her the face that had been tanned and lined by a lifetime of hard labour. He could still hear her sobbing protests. He squeezed the pillow and pretended it was her waist. He never did get to hug her goodbye.

When the boat reached the island where the tower stood, the templars climbed out and pulled the boat up on the land.

"All right, you. Out you go. This is your home now." The templar's voice wasn't unfriendly, but the boy in the boat needed a comfort and reassurance that was decidedly absent. With a knot in his stomach, the boy climbed from the boat and followed one of the templars into the tower.

They walked past templars and mages, young and old. They walked past bedrooms crammed with beds and a library with thousands of books. Upstairs, there were more books and much nicer bedrooms. Having walked through most of the second floor, the templar stopped in front of a door and knocked.

"It's open. You may enter." The voice was that of an older man.

Inside sat the speaker. He had ragged grey hair and eyes that sparkled. They looked from the templar to the boy who followed and gave a slight nod of understanding. The templar and the man spoke quietly, and the boy looked around the grand room lined with books and peculiar artefacts.

Finally, the older man approached the boy, leaning down so they matched in eye-level.

"Hello, my boy. My name is Irving, and I am the First Enchanter of the Circle of Magi. I know that this is frightening and new for you, but I hope that in time you will come to see this place as home. You must be tired and hungry from your trip. I will have one of the apprentices lead you to the dining hall and then show you the dorm."

Irving looked over the boy's shoulder and smiled.

"Karl! Convenient timing."

The boy turned and saw an older boy standing in the hallway outside holding a scroll.

"Uh...message, Ser." Karl sounded confused.

"I was just welcoming our new apprentice from the Anderfels. He needs a guide to help him get dinner and a bed."

"Oh, uh, certainly, Ser." Karl handed over the scroll and looked at the terrified face of the younger boy. "This way," he said gently.

As they moved through the corridor, Karl looked him over.

"You're much older than the new ones usually are. Managed to hide for a while?" He asked with a smile, but the boy was too frightened to speak.

"What's your name, then?" Again the boy was silent.

In the days that followed, the boy would regret not taking his one chance to maintain his name. At that moment though, he could not find a voice within himself.

"All right, let's get you some food." The boy shook his head. "Not hungry?" Another shake.

"Fine, it's almost curfew anyway. We'll get you a bed and you can settle in tomorrow. Seems you already have a pillow." His tone was playful, but the boy only squeezed the pillow harder and looked near tears. Karl sighed and led on.

The dorm was bustling with boys of different ages playing games, talking, and preparing for bed. Karl led him down rows of bunk-beds before stopping in front of one.

"The top one is mine. No one sleeps below me if you'd like that one." Karl arched an eyebrow and wondered if he would get any response from the mute boy.

The boy sat on the lower bunk. His eyes were wide as he took in the many busy figures moving around the room.

"Fresh meat, Karl?" The voice came from across the room.

"New apprentice," Karl replied. "Irving says he's from the Anderfels. Just got in tonight."

"A bit old for a newbie. Was he at another Circle?"

"Oooh. An Ander, huh? Don't get many of those."

"Not bad looking, is he? Give him a couple of years..."

More and more voices chimed in and the boy's head began to spin with all the chatter. He was only half-aware that he was the topic of it all. He set his head on the provided pillow and curled his body around the pillow from home. He fingered the delicate stitching his mother had done with such care. He closed his eyes and tried yet again to will himself back home. Finally, the Fade had mercy and took him into dreams.

He awoke a few hours later and realized his cheeks were wet. He must have been crying in his sleep. He heard a shuffle and realized what had woken him. Karl had climbed down from the top bunk and was stretching out next to him. The boy was about to cry out in terror when Karl began to whisper.

"I know, I know. It's okay. The first night is the hardest, I promise. It gets easier. Really, it does. Just try to get through the next couple of days and you'll see."

Karl had placed a comforting arm around him and pulled him into a tender embrace. The boy was reminded of the way his mother would comfort him in the night when his nightmares started. He closed his eyes and nuzzled again the older boy. He pretended that the bunk bed was his own bed at home and that the form lying next to him was his mother. His breathing eased. Soon he drifted back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2 Not Enough

"Karl?"

Anders stood on his own bunk so that he could whisper in the ear of the older apprentice in the bunk above.

"Karl?" He whispered a little louder, but there was no reaction.

He leant forward even further and ran his tongue up the ear.

"Mpphhhtt!" Karl sat up and glared at him through the dark.

"Oh, you're awake," Anders whispered causally, "me too, come down to my bunk."

Karl sat undecided for a moment. "You're going to keep this up until I do, aren't you?"

"Yep" was accompanied by a wicked grin.

With a long-suffering sigh, Karl slid off the top bunk and sat on the bunk below.

"What?" His tone was curt.

"Well, at least you're talking to me. See, we're making progress!"

An icy glare.

"Listen, I'm really sorry that the templars cracked down after my escape. You can have my food for a month. Shall I go flog myself?"

"I don't care about being sent to bed early with no dinner, Anders!" He sounded genuinely insulted. "What I mind is that someone I care about up and left the tower without a word. Again! I had no idea where you were, if you were okay, if I'd ever see you..." He gave up on talking.

Anders was unsure how to respond.

"Karl, you know I couldn't tell you."

"Why? Because you don't trust me? Because you think I'd rat you out?"

Anders shook his head and sighed.

"I couldn't tell you, because you would ask me to stay. And it would only hurt you more when I didn't."

Karl sat open-mouthed with shock. Slowly his mouth closed, then his eyes, and then he nodded.

"It's not enough...me...us." Karl kept his eyes closed.

Anders hated to hurt him. Karl had looked out for him for the past few years. Their relationship had changed over those years, becoming closer both emotionally and physically, but their feelings had not developed the same way.

Anders cared about Karl and was grateful to him, but their relationship was more of a diversion for him. It was one of many diversions he used to pass time in his imprisonment.

Karl took it more seriously. Anders feared that the older apprentice was in love with him.

"I'm sorry, Karl. While I am confined to this tower, I am yours. But if there is a chance to escape, I will always take it."

Karl's light blue eyes looked into Anders' dark amber ones. He searched for what they both knew he would not find.

Karl gave a sigh, and Anders heard the finality in it.

"I can't do it halfway, Anders."

Anders nodded.

"Will you still talk to me?" Since the crackdown caused by his last escape, Anders found fewer and fewer apprentices willing to even acknowledge him.

"Of course, Anders. I will always care about you. I hope we will always be close. But I am not like you. I can't kiss someone, share their bed, and then walk away."

Karl kissed Anders lightly on the top of his head. Then he climbed back up to his own bunk. Both of them laid awake for the rest of the night listening to the other's quiet breathing in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3 What You Want

Frey was beautiful. He was tall with bright eyes, straight features, and a perfect smile. As if he had not been fortunate enough in looks, he was also clever, witty, charming, and graceful. He was, undeniably, the most popular apprentice in the tower.

Anders sat at the back of the library watching across the room as Frey talked with two other older apprentices. They were telling jokes, vying for Frey's attention and approval. They looked at him with complete admiration and awe. No one had ever looked at Anders that way.

Whenever Frey was around, Anders could not help but stare. He had been staring at the man for the last four years. Frey was everything he wanted to be and everything he wanted to have.

One of the men told a joke and Frey threw his head back in laughter. Anders could see his long, smooth neck and hear his laugh like low wind-chimes. When Frey brought his head down, his eyes met Anders' for a fraction of a second. Anders' face flushed and he dropped his eyes to the book he was pretending to read. He had not turned a page since Frey had strolled in some time ago.

Frey dismissed his lackeys and leaned back against a bookshelf. He ran his hand through his silky hair and then let his eyes fall on Anders again. Again Anders dropped his head and pretended to read.

Soon Anders was aware of a presence next to him. Frey leaned over and spoke softly in his ear.

"Ah... Anders. I've seen you watching me." Anders choked on his own saliva.

Frey walked over to the chair opposite Anders and sat down.

"Did you think I didn't notice?" He raised a sceptical eyebrow. Frey examined Anders closely, unabashed in his scrutiny. Finally, he let his head shift to one side and his eyebrows arch as if he had finally reached a decision.

"I think I will do you a favour," he mused. "You may have heard that my Harrowing is this afternoon. By evening, I shall be a full mage."

He paused to let the younger apprentice appreciate his superior standing.

"As you may have noticed, new mages have a tradition of taking on...protégés."

Anders knew that new mages often chose an apprentice as a pet of sorts. The mages claimed to mentor the apprentices to help them prepare for their own Harrowings. What was omitted from this story was that the protégé was meant to return the favour with domestic or sexual services. Basically, new mages celebrated their new status by making one of their prior dorm-mates into their personal valet or lover.

Frey was watching him with his usual superior glint.

"I have been giving the matter some thought," Frey spoke slowly and confidently, "and I think that I might choose you."

Anders choked again and felt his entire body flush. His tongue was thick and dry, leaving him incapable of speech.

"Maker knows you can be annoying," Frey continued casually, "but you are quite nice to look at."

Frey rose from his chair and walked behind Anders. "It would be quite an honour for you," he whispered in the younger man's ear, "and I have no doubt you want it." His tone was slightly mocking.

"However, I don't commit to something without," he paused dramatically and looked Anders over once again, "knowing what I'm getting."

Anders looked up at the man, unsure of what to do or what was expected.

"Follow" was all the man offered as he walked out of the library. Anders left his books on the table and hurried after him. Frey sauntered to their dorm and walked inside. It was empty, as was usual for that time of day. Apprentices were expected to be at instruction or studying in the library.

Frey walked past the beds and tables, turning into the small room for more personal matters. He stopped next to a vanity.

"Come here, boy." He instructed firmly.

Anders obeyed. Frey looked at him, smiling. It was not a warm smile. It was the smile of a greedy man who is about to get what he wants. Frey turned Anders around and bent the younger man across the vanity. He ran his hands down Anders' back and legs, then he lifted the robes up over his back.

Frey chuckled as he pulled off Anders' smallclothes.

"This is a habit I'll have to break you of."

When Anders was naked from the waist down, Frey began caressing his butt and thighs with his fingertips. He made little appraising comments to himself as he worked over the exposed skin.

Anders heard a sucking noise and then felt pressure where he had never felt it before. Frey slid one wet finger inside the younger man and Anders gasped loudly at the unexpected sensation. After a few strokes, Anders felt a second finger press inside. The pain and surprise made him call out.

"Quiet boy!" Frey hissed, slamming Anders' head forward against the vanity. "Do you want the templars to come? I'm sure they'd be more than happy to step in and I doubt they bother with fingers and spit."

Anders was not really sure what Frey meant, but he bit his lower lip and was obediently silent. He could not see the pleased look on Frey's face.

Frey had been scissoring his fingers, but he removed both. Anders was still, not sure what to expect next. He heard a shuffle of cloth, the sound of spitting and the sound of wet skin again skin. He felt nothing. He was about to risk a look behind when he felt something press where fingers had been.

"Breathe," came the order, and then Frey pushed inside him. It took all of Anders' self-control not to cry out. He forced himself to breathe against the pain. He willed himself to relax. Frey was still, resting within him, and he took the chance to calm his body against the shock. As he began to relax into the new sensation, he was surprised to feel pleasure emerge from the pain.

Frey slowly pulled out only to plunge back in. He went deep inside and touched a place Anders had never known existed. Suddenly the pain was ignored, replaced with a desperate desire to be touched in that place once more. Frey thrust in and out, brushing that spot again and again.

Anders pressed his hips back hard. He wanted to press Frey deeper within him. He also wanted to free his own solid erection from the hard surface of the vanity. One hand gripping the wood surface to support himself, Anders brought his other hand around himself.

Anders' hand stroked himself in time with Frey's thrusts. Both men were groaning with pleasure. Anders' muscles began to spasm and cramp as he neared his climax. He barely bit back a scream as he came into his own hand. Frey's moans grew more jagged as Anders's body contracted around him. With a final deep thrust, Anders felt Frey come deep inside him.

Anders had collapsed forward on the vanity and felt Frey leaning against him with both arms. They were both still, breathing heavily and occasionally moaning in their pleasure. Slowly, Frey stood up and withdrew himself from Anders.

Frey adjusted his robes and leant over Anders to check his hair in the mirror of the vanity.

Looking down at Anders' still form, he said casually, "Yes, I think you'll do."

Then Frey walked out of the dorm leaving Anders half naked and bewildered with a hand full of his own seed.

Anders shakily put himself back together before returning to the library. Frey was nowhere to be seen.

Anders sat in front of the same neglected book and tried to make sense of what had just occurred.

He felt filled and empty, wanted and used, pleasured and hurt. More than anything, he felt confused.

He was late to lunch and sat alone. After lunch, he returned to the library. He still had not read a word of his book.

It was hours later when one of the apprentices ran into the room crying. She threw herself into a friend's arms.

"What's wrong?" the friend asked.

"It's Frey. It's horrible. He had his Harrowing, and..." She collapsed deeper into her friend's arms sobbing uncontrollably.

It was then that Anders saw a templar pass in the hall. His sword was stained with fresh blood.


End file.
